At eight o''clock in the evening, Eleanor asked Joslyn to keep her daughter


    Her father''s old notebook sat beside her, a silentpanion.


    "Dr. Sutton, thank you for making time to speak with me." Dr. Smith adjusted his sses and flipped through a report on the screen.


    "Of course. I''m very interested in the rare RH-negative variant you mentioned," Eleanor replied. "My father actually studied simr cases before he passed."


    Smith''s expression held no surprise. "Yes, I remember. I used to correspond with your father online about this, though we never had the chance to meet in person. I regret that."


    Eleanor blinked, startled. So Smith and her father had exchanged messages? But consideringn had funded Smith''sb, it made sensen would have introduced her father.


    She said, "My father''s research was far fromplete. Much of it was spection


    "The technology back then was limited," Smith interrupted, "but with recent medical advances and the help of Al, we''ve been able to gather much more data." As he spoke, a set of charts appeared on the screen.


    Eleanor leaned in, studying the graphs. Smith continued, "One aspect of this illness is its hereditary nature."


    "Hereditary?" Eleanor narrowed her eyes.


    "That''s right," Smith exined, his tone analytical. "The inheritance pattern differs depending on whether the genees from the mother or the father. If the mother carries it, there''s about a fifty-percent chance her daughter or granddaughter will inherit the trait. The odds are high, but there''s no pattern to when or how the illness presents itself."


    Eleanor frowned, realizing how dangerous such a disease could be for any family.


    Smith went on, "If future generations want to have children, modern technology allows for thorough gic screening."


    Eleanor nodded. "What treatment options exist right now?"


    "Once the disease is identified, we rmend annual stem cell infusions to slow its progression. If possible" Smith hesitated, "the best chance is an early bone marrow transnt."


    Eleanor asked, "What about carriers?"


    "Carriers need regr check-ups to monitor for symptoms and dy the onset. Actually, I have a patient who''s been stable for years with regr stem cell infusions-her health is indistinguishable from anyone else''s."


    Eleanor smiled. “That''s incredibly fortunate."


    "She really is lucky. She has a wonderful—” Smith caught himself, then chuckled. "Dr. Sutton, I''ll send you a detailed file. After you''ve reviewed the data, I''d love to discuss it further with you."


    "Absolutely," Eleanor agreed.


    Before ending the call, Smith sent her a folder-his entire body of research on the illness, open for her to review.


    Eleanor downloaded the files and, feeling a wave of exhaustion, rubbed her brow. It was already nine. Time to get her daughter ready for bed.


    The next morning, Eleanor was heading out with her daughter when she noticed a figure waiting by the gate—a familiar silhouette, standing quietly against the wall.


    "Daddy!" Evelyn''s face lit up with disbelief and delight at seeing him so early.


    "Hey, sweetheart." Ian scooped Evelyn up with a smile. Eleanor, holding the schoolbag, turned her face away, unwilling to meet his eyes.


    "Daddy, can youe with Mommy and me to school today?" Evelyn asked, hope shining in her voice.


    "Evelyn, why don''t you let Daddy take you today? Mommy''s got a headache and could use some rest." Eleanor seized the excuse.


    Evelyn, always understanding, nodded her little head. "Okay, Mommy, you should go back and sleep some more. I''ll have Daddy take me."


    Eleanor handed the backpack ton. For a moment, his deep gaze lingered on her.


    She hardly looked like someone suffering from a headache; if anything, the morning light gave her cheeks a healthy, rosy glow.


    Eleanor watchedn carry Evelyn into the elevator lobby, then turned and headed back home. Joslyn was surprised to see her return alone. "Ma''am, you''re back already?"


    "Her father''s dropping her off today," Eleanor replied, pouring herself a ss of warm water.


    "Will you have breakfast at home?"


    "Yes, please. I''ll head to work around ten." With that, Eleanor went upstairs to her study.


    She sat and opened the folder Dr. Smith had sent. Each file was dated. She clicked on one from nine years ago—this must be the case Smith had mentioned.


    The patient''s name was omitted; only the code "011" appeared. The patient was a fifty-year-old woman of Asian descent, with notes on her early symptoms and detailed physiological data.


    As Eleanor read, she realized how much effort Smith must have put into saving her. This case had progressed rapidly, not in the usual slow fashion. Nine years ago, the woman had undergone a critical stem cell transnt-her donor was listed only as "S."


    The surgical notes indicated the operation was a sess. Within three months, the patient''s health had returned to normal.


    Eleanor couldn''t help but marvel. For someone with this kind of rare blood disorder, finding apatible stem cell donor was almost impossible-the donor had to have a specific gic sequence. Some people could search the whole world and never find a match.